


Hey 8ud, Let's Party!!!!!!!!

by light_rises



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1960s, F/M, High School, Humanstuck, Playing Hooky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-16
Updated: 2013-07-16
Packaged: 2017-12-20 08:30:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/885158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/light_rises/pseuds/light_rises
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing about the day seems to herald fanfare or anything prodigious, but it <i>does</i> start with you and Vriska skipping school.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hey 8ud, Let's Party!!!!!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> HSWC BR3 fill to the following [prompt](http://hs-worldcup.dreamwidth.org/5337.html?thread=1814489#cmt1814489):
> 
> "John<3Vriska   
> January 7, 1964 California, United States (The day Nicolas Cage was born)"

Nothing about the day seems to herald fanfare or anything prodigious, but it _does_ start with you and Vriska skipping school.

It's no big! At least not really. All the dumb stuff assigned over winter break was due yesterday, and Vris insisted you could both do with a day of not having any bullshit to square away. Or at least of not worrying about it until later. You've been her friend long enough to know that Vriska Serket is... kind of awful at being a font of good advice? However much she likes to think otherwise.

Buuuut homework did sort of kill your holidays this year. It's hard to bring yourself to care this time.

Your day of "fl8grant and unrelenting de8auchery!!!! :::;)" (she always passes you the weirdest notes, jeez) consists of a lot of hanging out at the LA River. And by "a lot" you mean "the whole time", but it's okay. You pop wheelies and high-five over them and take breaks from all that choice noise to sprawl out in a clearing overlooking the Glendale Narrows. It's one of the only spots where foliage has managed to encroach the water, so it's actually kind of scenic.

Sometime during the last break she asks, "So what're you going to do?"

"Hmmm?" You sit up a little, elbows propped from behind.

"After this summer!" Vris rolls her good eye like IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN OBVIOUS, DUH and you make a horsey noise with your lips. She is unimpressed. "Post-high school? College?? That hasn't stopped being a thing, you know."

"This is kind of a weird thing to bring up while we're playing hooky, Vriska." She throws a pebble that you manage to dodge by rolling onto your side. Like, barely, but that doesn't stop it from counting. "Just sayin'!"

"Well _I'm_ 'just sayin''" -- she drops her voice, which is silly because you're both practically at the same octave and she knows it, but whatever -- "that you, Mister 'i've got my fingers in aaaaaaaall the school club pies' -- "

"Hey, not all of them!"

" -- have failed to talk up a game plan for career stuff even _once!_ That failure is a categorical one, John."

Your face finds a nice nesting spot in the palm of your hand. Oh man. Where to start.

"Vriska." Yeah, there's a start. "Vriska, you know what else hasn't stopped being a thing? School counselors. Me and one of them? We have talked. A few times even! Believe me."

Vriska's cheeks puff out. "John," she says, "I am your self-designated life coach for life."

"Oh man."

"Shut up!!! It is my obligation as such to make sure you stay on track. Which is to say, I can under no circumstances NOT know if you are doing something that would totally fuck up your future."

"Oh my _god_."

"I'm being serious!!!!!!!!" She flops back and fixes you with a look that's kind of bug-eyed but intense, which means she's doing that thing where you don't know whether to laugh or be a little terrified. "Okay, fine, go and be cavalier about keeping me and my foolproof advice out of the loop. Forget that it could have consequences on a cosmic scale or whatever! Ha!!"

"... 'Cosmic scale.'"

"Never underestimate the intangible qualities of our bond, John."

"I." You sit up the rest of the way. "Wait, hold up, hooooold up. Do you mean, like, a mystical connection?" You wiggle your fingers. "Oh god, Vris, are you a hippie? Have you become a hippie in secret or something? It's okay, you can tell me."

Her face scrunches and hisses out a "rRGHHH" before she pitches forward. The ground says howdy to Vriska's face and oops, the funny wins out. You laugh until the dust settles around her.

She hasn't budged thirty seconds later and concern prickles at you. "Hey," you say, then scooch forward. You make a calculated guess at where her face is beneath the mound of hair before tugging part of it up. "Can you, uh, breathe okay under there?"

"MrrrgmggmgmphI'mmffffiiiiiiiinnnnne."

"Just checking." All right, Standard Serket Tantrum Maneuver #863 it is. Except this means she _is_ being sincere, so the concern has turned into a pinch of guilt. Just a pinch, but.

It's still funny again, so the smile's in your voice as you say, "Look, Vris, I'm sorry if I crossed a line or anything, but -- man! Can you honestly blame a guy for being a little weirded out? You never got on my case about school before and you copy off my homework, like, all the time."

"Mmgzactly!!" Vriska rolls onto her back, dirt-smudged from nose to corduroy lapel. "You do well, I do well. Second verse, vice versa the first. Be skeptical all you want that we tip these scales at our peril, but I call a spade a spade and this shit is _definitely_ a spade." She pauses, folding her arms and oh, that patch of grass sure does seem worth her scrutiny. "I'd just like to think I'm returning the favor, is all."

You verge on an eyeroll but resist, because... she might have a point? Like, sure, you've gotten into your share of trouble together (you can't exactly say this time isn't one of them!), but lately you've been on a roll of keeping each other _out_ of it. It's kind of a nice trend. By "kind of" you mean "very."

But WOW are you going to ignore the hell out of dwelling on that!! No one's getting hurt any more and you and Vriska are still friends, yeah? Yeah. That's all that matters.

You sigh. "Okay, I guess that is fair enough."

"Good." Vriska sits up with a bolt. "So! Getting down to brass tacks. Funny business answers count for negative points by the way."

"Haha, okay okay!" You curl one leg beneath the other because this is totally going to be comfy for more than two minutes. Aw yeah. "Well, I guess the thing is I... can't think of one job? Like. There is a whole bunch of the careers I'd love to do, if that makes sense."

"... That's it?"

"Uh. Yeah?"

"Wow, John. Wow."

"What?!"

"A bounty of happy career paths and all you can do is 'oh no, headlights!!!! oh my god!!!!'" She clicks her tongue and blows her bangs from her eyes. "Wait, of course. When did you ever know when you had it good?"

"No, you see, that's just it! Sort of. I'm going to have to choose something and I don't think I want to." The crab grass to your left is looking a little feisty, so you start to pick at the blades. "I dunno, it's dumb, and putting it this way is gonna sound even dumber, but it would be like... like picking a favorite child. Who the hell picks a favorite child?"

"A parent who is both honest and expedient, for one."

"Vriska!!"

She just sighs with extra gusto. "Seriously, why not just pick one and go with it? You'd be happy with any of your favorites, right?"

"I don't know! It's not that easy."

"BZZZZT, wrong answer! Choose it or lose it."

"Oh my god, okay!" Like the request is even a little bit reasonable, but whatever. You'll improvise.

You pick another twenty blades of grass before the improvisation becomes this: "Say. What have you got planned for college anyway?"

"What."

"I realized you never brought it up either, so -- "

"Whoa, hey! I thought I said no funny business answers."

"Nooo, you said they would count for negative points." Vriska's doffing her jacket in a huff but you smile primly. "Also," you add, "that was a question, not an answer."

Aaaaaaaand there goes the face full of corduroy. You can't be assed to care past the dirt in your nostrils, and a sneeze takes care of that _tout suite_.

Vriska has gone teeth-clenched and blotchy. "You, John Egbert, are a tricksy bastard," she hisses.

"I learned from the best! Well, minus the 'tricksy' bit. That was all me."

"Wow, you should shut up."

"Nah," you say. She swipes the jacket from your lap and you put up your hands in semi-mock surrender. "For real though, I think it'd make more sense for us to be each other's bossy life coaches instead of, like. This pseudo-One Way Street thing."

Vriska sniffs. "I see nothing that isn't perfectly acceptable about our current arrangement." Her mouth twitches out of its grimace, then she adds, "You get some points for the spate of moxie, though."

"Groovy."

"You're welcome."

"But I'm not done yet."

"Excuse me?"

"What was that we said earlier about homework?"

Her gasp is small but sharp. " _You_ were the one who brought that up, smartass!!"

"Exactly! Well, okay, I didn't know that at the time but. Look -- " You wince, stretching out your trapped leg. Bluh, tingly. Why do you keep doing that? "I know you think being my life coach is equivalent trade for... stuff... but man. It's just -- "

"It's just what?" The curve of Vriska's jaw has gone taut and she's sitting up as straight as she ever has.

"You are my friend!" For the first time "friend" sticks oddly in your throat and you push forward with, "I get concerned because I care about you. It's what friends do."

Her gaze frosts over. Oh no. "You're better off spoon-feeding yourself that concern. I've had enough of it to last eight lifetimes, thanks."

_Ouch_. Yup. You figured she was going there. But you have grown to figure other things too, like the fact that this won't do. At least not quite.

You sigh, lift a part of your heart and say, "Vris, I don't know about cosmic balances or anything, or how you square stuff in your -- actually. No, I think I kind of do. Square stuff in your head, that is."

She had been coiling in on herself, arms and legs folded, but her head snaps to you.

"And what I want to say is different," you go on. You square your shoulders, just a bit. "Even if you don't believe it after the fact."

Her mouth twists in something like defiance as she says, "Tell me."

You swallow, gather things that suit the "advice" label poorly and intend to fill that void with an earnest (and firm!!) look

_\-- stomach-squirmy retrospectively, concurrently, fit to burst with earnestness and ethical quandaries and having to put your foot down when your conscience couldn't sign the check presented to it; co-signed to the annuals of Friendship And Both Of Yous Past by now, but the ink is still wet here and there if you know where to look --_

then say: "Just -- keep staying out of trouble. The bad kind I mean, and you -- we've been doing that. That's good! But you can be happy too. Believe me. You're way more than smart enough to keep doing all that and be happy, and I am so proud of you just for the first half, so... yeah."

Things goes quiet, save for cricket chirps and your heart thrumming uncomfortably in your ears. Thirty seconds more of this and you flop onto your back. Vriska slumps down to join you.

"Sorry," you say. "I was -- I just wanted to change the subject for a bit? But then... I was honest about all that, for the record." You swallow. "Sorry. That probably sucked -- "

"Pact."

"... Huh?"

"John. Pact. _Now_."

"What the hell??"

"I refuse the infinite fuck out of the notion," Vriska says, slowly sitting up, "that we could sink beneath the waves of mediocrity. We were NOT meant for loserdom, John!"

"Ah." The tension ebbs out of you with a rush of breath. You prop yourself up to face her and say, "So I guess you could say it is, like, written in the stars?"

"I prefer to think of it as doing whatever we damn well please with our stars." She pauses, her good eye pinning you warmly past the lens glint. "You know. Within reason."

"Within reason." You smile outright. "So if this has to do with a pact... "

"Having each other's backs on matters of life and livelihood isn't a half-bad strategy, I think." There's something tinting her cheeks that could be the fading light playing tricks on you as she says, "And I don't think you would be a half-bad shipmate."

"Heh." You scratch the back of your neck. "Well, same here! For whatever it's worth."

Vriska's grin cuts through the encroaching dusk. "It's worth a pact."

She catches your arm in a bid to hoist you up (you comply), and then your hand in a firm shake (you comply, with vigor). She's regarding you with a rakish contentment that you don't think has looked prettier on anyone else in the history of looking rakishly content and --

Whoa, wait, okay. Vriska's cheeks are definitely burning this time. You're not doing any better yourself.

Oh god. Does this mean you're going to go steady someday. You think this is what this means.

... You're not sure if you mind that one bit.

Vriska hooks an arm about your shoulders and brings you in for a kiss to the cheek instead of a noogie and okay, yeah, maybe she doesn't mind that one bit either. (Motherfucking _score_.)

She also takes that opportunity to whoop a "YEAH!!!!!!!!" and then whisper into your ringing ear, " _Cosmic balance secured._ "

You don't resist the eyeroll this time, but the smile isn't unhitching itself anytime soon. "Whatever you say, Vriska."

\---

In both the very near temporal and locational proximity of Long Beach, a tiny cry of someone (very very) new splits the air.

The stars, realigned, blithely appeased, welcome another of their own.


End file.
